A Heroine of France: The Story of Joan of Arc

  CHAPTER XI. HOW THE MAID BORE TRIUMPH AND TROUBLE.

  The people of Orleans, and we her knights and followers, werewell-nigh wild with joy. I do not think I had ever doubted how shewould bear herself in battle; and yet my heart had sometimestrembled at the thought of it. For, after all, speaking humanly,she was but a girl, a gentle maid, loving and tender-hearted, towhom the sight of suffering was always a sorrow and a pain. And topicture a young girl, who had perhaps never seen blows struck inanger in her life--save perchance in some village brawl--suddenlyset in the midst of a battle, arms clashing, blood flowing, all thehideous din of warfare around her, exposed to all its fearful risksand perils--was it strange we should ask ourselves how she wouldbear it? Was it wonderful that her confidence and calmness andsteadfast courage under the trial should convince us, as neverperhaps we had been convinced before, of the nearness of thosesupernatural beings who guarded her so closely, who warned her ofdanger, who inspired her with courage, and yet never robbed her forone moment of the grace and beauty and crown of her pure womanhood?

  And so, whilst we were well-nigh mad with joy and triumph, whilstjoy bells pealed from the city, and the soldiers and citizens wereready to do her homage as a veritable saint from heaven, she wasjust her own quiet, thoughtful, retiring self. She put aside theplaudits of the Generals; she hushed the excited shouting of thesoldiers. She exercised her authority to check and stop thecarnage, to insist that quarter should be given to all who askedit, to see that the wounded upon both sides were carried into thecity to receive attention and care, and in particular that theprisoners--amongst whom were several priests--should receive humanetreatment, and escape any sort of insult or reprisal.

  These matters occupied her time and thought to the exclusion of anypersonal pride or triumph. It was with difficulty that the Generalscould persuade her to ride at their head into the city, to receivethe applause and joyful gratitude of the people; and as soon as shecould without discourtesy extricate herself from the crowd pressinground to kiss her hands or her feet, or even the horse upon whichshe rode, she slipped away to give orders that certain badlywounded English prisoners were to be carried to the Treasurer'shouse, and laid in the spacious guest chamber, which, having beenprepared for her own reception, had been permitted to no one else.Here she begged of Madame Boucher permission to lodge them, thatshe might tend their hurts herself, and assure herself that all waswell with them.

  No one could deny the Maid those things she asked, knowing wellthat others in her place would have issued commands withoutstooping to petition. But with the Maid it was never so. Her gentlecourtesy never deserted her. No association with men, no militarydignity of command, which she could so well assume, ever tarnishedthe lustre of her sweet humility. A gentle maiden, full oftenderness and compassion, she showed herself now. Instead ofresting after the sore strife of the battle, which had exhaustedeven strong men, nothing would serve her but that she must herselfdress the wounds of these English prisoners; and so deft was hertouch, and so soft and tender her methods with them, that not agroan passed the lips of any of them; they only watched her withwondering eyes of gratitude; and when she had left the room theylooked at each other and asked:

  "Who is it? Is it boy, or angel, or what? The voice is as the voiceof a woman, and the touch is as soft; but the dress is the dress ofa man. Who can it be?"

  I understood them, for I knew something of the English tongue, andI saw that they were in great amazement; for all who had seen theMaid bore her image stamped upon their hearts; and yet it wasimpossible for these prisoners of war to believe that thetriumphant, angelic Commander of the Forces could stoop to tend thehurts of wounded prisoners with her own hands.

  "Gentlemen," I said, "that is the Angelic Maid herself--she who hasbeen sent of Heaven for the deliverance of France. I trow that yousoldiers and knights of England have called her witch, andthreatened to burn her if you can lay hands upon her. Perchance nowthat you have seen her thus face to face, your thoughts towards herwill somewhat change."

  They gazed at me and at one another in amaze. They broke intoquestions, eager and full of curiosity. When I had answered themthey were ready to tell me what was spoken of her in the Englishranks; all averred that some strange power seemed to fall upon themwith the advent of the Maid into the city--a power that withheldthem from sallying forth to hinder her coming, or that of therelieving army.

  "We had meant to fight her to the death," spoke one English knight."I was in counsel with the Generals when it was so proposed; andyet more resolved were we to keep out the army from Blois, which weheard must needs pass straight through our lines--an easy prey, wesaid, to our gunners, archers and swordsmen. All was in readinessfor the attack--and yet no word was ever given. No trumpet sounded,though the men were drawn up ready. We all stood to arms; but thesight of that dazzling white figure seemed to close the lips of ourcommanders, to numb the limbs of our soldiers. I can say no more.When the chance was gone--the hour passed--we gazed into eachother's face as men awaking from a dream. We cursed ourselves. Wecursed the witch who had bound us by her spells. We vowed to redeemand revenge ourselves another day. And when we saw the Frenchissuing forward to the attack scarce two hours after the entry ofthe relieving army, and there was no white figure with them, thenindeed did we tell ourselves that our time was come; and we thoughtto win a speedy victory over the men who had so often fled beforeus. Yet you know how the day did end. The Maid came--victory rodebeside her! Nought we could do availed when she appeared. I hadthought to be left to die upon the battlefield, but behold I amhere, and she has dressed my wounds with her own hands! It iswonderful! Past belief! Tell me who and what is she? A creature ofearth or of heaven?"

  I had already told him all I knew; but they were never tired ofhearing the story of the Maid; and as I, at her request, watchedbeside them during the night, ministering to their wants, and doingwhat I was able to relieve their pain, I found that nothing sohelped them to forget the smart of their wounds as the narration ofall the wonderful words and deeds of this Heavenly Deliverer ofFrance.

  They were frank enough on their side also, and told me much of thedisposition of their forces, and how that they were expecting astrong army to join them quickly, headed by Sir John Fastolffe, anotable knight, whose name we well knew, and had trembled beforeere this. They admitted that their ranks were somewhat thinned bydisease and death, and that they had scarce sufficient force bothto maintain all the bastilles erected on the north side of theriver and also to hold the great forts of Les Tourelles and LesAugustins on the south; but that when the reinforcements shouldarrive all would be well, and but for the marvellous power of theMaid, they would have felt no doubt whatever as to the speedyreduction of the city either by assault or blockade.

  With the first golden shafts of sunlight came the Maid once more,little Charlotte beside her, both bearing in their hands suchcooling drinks and light sustenance as the condition of the woundedmen required. The Maid wore the white, silver embroidered tunic andsilken hose which Queen Yolande had provided for her indoor dress;she carried no arms, and her clustering curls framed her lovelyface like a nimbus. All eyes were fixed upon her as upon a vision,and as she bent over each wounded man in turn, asking him of hiswelfare and holding a cup to his lips, I could see the amazementdeepening in their eyes; and I am sure that they were well-nighready to worship the ground upon which she trod, so deep was theimpression made upon them by her beauty and her gentle treatment.

  When she left the room I followed her at her sign, and asked:

  "Then you go not forth to battle today, General?"

  "Nay," she replied, "for today the Church keeps the blessed Feastof the Ascension; which should be to all a day of peace andthanksgiving and holy joy. I am going forthwith to hear Mass andreceive the Holy Sacrament; and I would have my faithful knightsabout me. Let us forget warfare and strife for this day."

  Her own face was transfigured as she spoke. The light shone upon itall the time that she knelt before the high altar in t
he Cathedral,rapt in a mystery of thanksgiving and heavenly joy. O how real itall was to her--those things which were to us articles of faith,grounds of hope, yet matters which seemed too far above us toarouse that personal rapture which was shining from the eyes andirradiating the whole face of the Maid.

  It was a beautiful beginning to the day; and all the early hourswere spent by the Maid in meditation and prayer within the walls ofthe Cathedral, where the people flocked, as perhaps they had neverdone before, to give thanks for the mercies received with theadvent of the Maid, and to gaze upon her, as she knelt in a tranceof rapture and devotion in her appointed place not far from thealtar. We, her knights, went to and fro, some of us always near toher, that the crowd might not too curiously press upon her when shewent forth, or disturb her devotions by too close an approach.

  I noted that none of the Generals appeared or took part in the actsof devotion that day. And as I issued forth into the sunny streetat the close of the High Mass, Bertrand met me with a look oftrouble and anger on his face.

  "They are all sitting in council of war together," he said, "andthey have not even told her of it, nor suffered her to join them!How can they treat her so--even Dunois and La Hire--when they haveseen again and yet again how futile are all plans made by theirskill without the sanction of her voice? It makes my gorge rise! Dothey think her a mere beautiful image, to ride before them andcarry a white banner to affright the foe? It is a shame, a shame,that they should treat her so, after all that they have seen andheard!"

  I was as wroth as Bertrand, and as full of surprise. Even now,looking back after all these years, the blindness of these men ofwar astonishes and exasperates me. They had seen with their owneyes what the Maid could accomplish; again and again she had provedherself the abler in counsel as in fight; and yet they nowdeliberately desired to set her aside from their councils, and onlyinform her of their decisions when made, and permit her to take ashare in the fighting they had planned.

  Bertrand was furiously angry. He led me up into a lofty turretwhich commanded a bird's-eye view of the whole city and itsenvirons, and he pointed out that which the Maid had declared shewould straightway do, so soon as the Feast of the Ascension wasover, and how the Generals were about to follow a quite differentcourse.

  Orleans, as all men know, lies upon the right--the north--bank ofthe Loire, and the country to the north was then altogether in thepower of the English; wherefore they had built their greatbastilles around the city upon that side without molestation, andwere able to receive supplies from their countrymen without let orhindrance.

  But these bastilles were not the chiefest danger to the city, orrather I should say, it was not these which were the chiefest causeof peril, since no help could reach the garrison from that side.They looked to the country to the south to help them, and it was tostop supplies from reaching them by water or from the south thatthe English had long since crossed the river and had establishedthemselves in certain forts along the south bank. Of these, St.Jean le Blanc was one; but by far the most important and dangerousto the city were the two great towers commanding the bridge, whosenames I have given before. Let me explain how these greatfortifications stood.

  Les Augustins had once been a convent, and it stood on the southbank, very near to the end of the bridge, guarding it securely fromattack, and commanding the waterway and the approach to the city.Les Tourelles was an even stronger tower, constructed upon the verybridge itself, and menacing the town in formidable fashion. Dunoishad broken down the main portion of the bridge on the north side toprevent the advance into the city of the English from their tower;so it stood grimly isolated from either bank; for the permanentbridge at the south end had been destroyed to be replaced by adrawbridge which could rise or fall at will.

  And it was these towers of Les Augustins and Les Tourelles whichhad reduced the city to such straits by hindering the entrance offood supplies. Moreover, from Les Tourelles great stone cannonballs had been hurled into the city in vast numbers, battering downwalls and doing untold damage to buildings and their inhabitants.

  Now it was evident to all that these fortresses must be taken ifthe city were to be relieved and the siege raised. But the Maid,with her far-seeing eyes, had decreed that first the bastilles uponthe north bank should be attacked and destroyed; and it was easy tofollow her reasoning; "For," she said, "when the English arefiercely attacked there, they will, without doubt, yield up theselesser fortresses without a great struggle, concentratingthemselves in force upon the left bank, where they think to do usmost hurt. We shall then destroy their bastilles, so that they willhave no place of shelter to fly back to; and then we shall fallupon them hip and thigh on the south side, and drive them before usas chaff before the wind. They must needs then disperse themselvesaltogether, having no more cover to hide themselves in; so will theenemies of the Lord be dispersed, and the siege of Orleans beraised."

  This was the plan she had confided to her own immediate attendantsand staff the previous evening, and which Bertrand repeated to me,gazing over the ramparts, and pointing out each fortress andbastion as it was named. But now the Generals in Council, withoutreference to the Maid, had decreed something altogether different.What they desired to do was not to make any real or vigorous attackupon any of the English forts, but to feign an assault upon thetowers on the south bank, and whilst the attention of the foe wasthus engaged, get great quantifies of stores--all lying inreadiness at hand--into the city, enough to last for a long while,and then quietly sit down behind the strong walls, and tire out theEnglish, forcing them thus to retreat of their own accord!

  Think of it! After all that had been promised, all that had beenperformed! To be content to shut ourselves in a well-provisionedtown, and just weary out the patience of the foe! And, moreover, ofa foe who expected daily reinforcements from the north, and whowould be quite capable of exercising as much patience, and perhapsmore daring than ourselves.

  Even now my blood boils at the thought, and I find it hard toconceive how such men as Dunois and La Hire let themselves be ledfrom their allegiance and confidence in the Maid to listen to suchcounsel as this from her detractors, and those many lessercommanders who were sorely jealous of her success and influence.But so it was, not once nor twice, but again and again; though inaction they were staunch to her, would follow her everywhere, rallyround her standard, fly to her defence when danger threatened, andshow themselves gallant soldiers and generous-hearted men, neverdenying her all her share of praise and honour. But when sitting inthe council room, surrounded by officers and men of experience inwar disposed to scorn the counsels of an unlettered girl, and scoffat her pretensions to military rule, they were invariably led awayand overborne, agreeing to act without her sanction, or evencontrary to her advice, notwithstanding their belief in hermission, and their trust in her power as a leader.

  The shades of evening had fallen in the Treasurer's house beforeword was brought to the Maid of the decision of the Generals inCouncil. We were sitting around her after supper; and she hadfallen into a very thoughtful mood. The Chevalier d'Aulon had beencalled away, and now returned with a troubled face. He stood justwithin the doorway, as though half afraid to advance. The Maidlifted her eyes to his and smiled.

  "Do not fear to tell me your news, my kind friend. I know that yourfaithful heart is sore at the dishonour done to me; but let us notjudge harshly. It is hard for men full of courage and fleshly powerto understand how the Lord works with such humble instruments.Perchance, in their place, we should not be greatly different.

  "So they have refused my plan, and made one of their own. We are toattack the foe upon the south? Is that agreed? And even so not withall our heart and strength?"

  D'Aulon recoiled a step in amaze.

  "Madame, that is indeed so--a feint upon the south bank has beendecreed, whilst provisions are thrown into the city--"

  "Yes, yes, I know. Well, so be it. We will attack on the southbank. It must have come sooner or later, and if we fight with awill, the Lord will
be with us and uphold our cause. But, myfriends, understand this, and let the men likewise understand it.There shall be no mockery of fighting. It shall be true anddesperate warfare. Let the Generals decree what they will, the Maidwill lead her soldiers to victory! Tomorrow Les Augustins shall beours; upon the next day Les Tourelles shall fall--" she pausedsuddenly and turned towards Bertrand.

  "What day will that be--the day after to-morrow?"

  "The seventh day of May," he answered at once.

  "Ah!" she said, "then it will be on that day--the day which shallsee Orleans relieved--the power of the English broken."

  She spoke dreamily, and only Madame Boucher, who sat in the shadowswith her child upon her lap, ventured to ask of her:

  "What will be on that day, gentle Jeanne?"

  "That I shall be wounded," she answered quietly.

  "Did I not tell you long since," turning to Bertrand and me, "thatI should not come unscathed through the assault; but that on acertain day I should receive a wound?"

  I pulled out my tablets, upon which I often recorded the sayings ofthe Maid, and sure enough there it was written down as she said. Wefelt a great burning revolt at the thought of any hurt befallingher, and somebody spoke vehemently, saying that the holy Saintswould surely protect her from harm. But she lifted her hand withher gentle authority of gesture, and spoke:

  "Nay, my kind friends, but thus it must needs be; nor would I haveit otherwise. Listen, and I will tell you all. I often had my daysand hours of fear because this great work was put upon one so weakand ignorant as I, and it was long before I clearly understood thatI was but the instrument in a mighty Hand, and that power for allwould be given me. Then my fear left and great joy came; perhapseven some pride and haughtiness of spirit in that I had been chosenfor such a task.

  "And then it was that my voices asked of me: 'Jeanne, hast thou nofear?'

  "And I answered without pause, 'I fear nothing now.'

  "Then St. Catherine herself suddenly appeared to me in a greatwhite light and said: 'Child, thou art highly favoured of heaven;but the flesh is easily puffed up. And for this cause, and becauseit may be well that thou thyself and all men shall know that thouart but human flesh and blood, thou shalt not escape unscathed inwarfare; but thou too shalt feel the sting of fiery dart, and knowthe scald of flowing blood.'

  "I bowed my head and made answer I would bear whatever my Lordthought fit to lay upon me; and I asked if I might know when thisthing would happen. It was not told me then; but later it wasrevealed to me; and I know that upon the seventh day of May I shallbe wounded--" and she touched her right shoulder as she spoke, justbelow the neck.

  "But what matter will that be, when the siege of Orleans shall beraised?"

  Her face was aglow; nothing could touch her joy, not the insults ofthe proud Generals, nor the knowledge of coming pain for herself.Her thought was all of the mission entrusted to her; and so, thoughthwarted and set aside, she showed no petty anger, dreamed not ofany paltry vengeance such as others might have dealt the soldiers,by refusing to march with them on the morrow. Oh, no; hurt shemight be--indeed we knew she was--her pain being for the dishonourdone her Lord in this disrespect of His messenger; but no thoughtof reprisal entered her head. She rose from her seat, and liftedthe little Charlotte in her strong young arms.

  "Gentlemen, let us early to rest," she said, holding her headproudly, "for tomorrow a great work shall be done, and we must allhave our share in it."